Hilarious
by Otte
Summary: P4: They were clueless and he hated them for it. They had no idea how funny this all was. They just wanted to ruin it for him. Huge spoilers for Persona 4.


**Hilarious**_  
Because twisted characters are fun to write. By Otte._

It was hysterical, Adachi thought to himself, giggling into his knees, his gun held tight in his hand. He could see them, running back and forth lost in his little maze. He could hear them struggle and fight and encourage each other, saying the cheesiest, lamest lines. What a fucking stupid bunch. He rocked back and forth from laughter, rubbing his aching forehead against his knees as his hysteria died to a bout of out-of-control giggles.

He knew who they were. He'd watched it, on that favourite little TV show of his. He still had the DVDs stored secretly away in his house. When he was bored and Namatame was being slow, he'd fish out one of his favourites and put it in. They'd quickly become his favourite comedies. It was hysterical. Their little investigation team was such a pathetic little fair, and the best thing was that they took themselves so seriously. Always on about meeting at their "secret headquarters", about "facing yourself" and all this shit about reaching the truth. Who the hell other than them even cared? What a joke these kids were.

He laughed again. They didn't know shit. He hated teenagers. So arrogant - they thought they knew everything and they didn't have a clue. They didn't have a fucking clue. When you were an adult, he thought bitterly, rocking back and forth, you were boxed in. You had your own little set route to follow, day in and day out. There was no fun in being an adult, there was no fun in thinking or talking or being human. His powers were fun. And watching them all struggle and embarrass themselves? Well that was definitely fun.

Even then, he couldn't fucking get out. He needed to be able to watch people kill each other to find anything interesting in his life, and he knew this meant his life had gone to shit.

If they were all just shadows, all the bitches and freaks of this world, everything would be so simple. He'd never have to think again.

He took a deep breath, and tilted his head back. There was a painful thumping in the back of his head he couldn't shake off.

He could picture those kids now. He had those tapes memorised. He knew them better than they knew each other, or themselves.

It was hysterical. The people coming to apprehend him were so pathetic – a coward, a bitch, a slut, a faggot, a whore, a freak and a tranny. They were a precious little band of losers, all fighting and risking their lives. What they didn't know, what he knew, was that it'd all mean nothing for them. They could take him in, they could end all the murders, but he'd still win. They'd still be the social outcasts they were before all this happened deep down. Their shadows wouldn't leave just like that. They hadn't overcome anything. They never would.

He giggled again, his laugh ringing high and fast and manic. The best thing…the best thing was that if they failed today, if they grew too tired, they would leave for the night, and…and not be back until school finished the next day! He howled at that. They actually waited until school ended to come catch a murderer! He laughed until his throat grew sore and dry, reducing his hysteria to light chuckles.

He stood up, wobbling, grinning manically and switching his gun from hand to hand. Let them come here. He'd shoot the whole fucking lot of them down. He'd love to see their faces as their little friends went down. It'd be good of him to teach them what it was like being an adult. People didn't care about you when you were an adult. These kids tried so hard, trying to be all cute with each other and act like they cared about all this shit, but he knew. He knew. They were as bad as everybody else. Like that announcer bitch, and that kid. All pretty and sweet outside, an ugly bitch underneath. He'd seen their last moments. He'd seen that sweet little announcer tear the face off her lover's wife, he'd seen her step up on that chair over and over, trying to tie the noose and screaming.

He rocked back and forth on his heels, swinging his gun around his fingers. It was great, it was hilarious. She took herself so seriously. It was so _important _to her. That loser Namatame as so important to her. She whored herself out to that loser, then acted like he was the freak when he just wanted the same thing. The stupid bitch. She'd been a fun one to torment.

That next kid. Oh hell, that was funny. That Junes kid had been so infatuated with her. He probably thought they were gonna grow up, get married and she would pop out a dozen kids for her. He sniggered. As if that was ever gonna happen. The slut was worse than the announcer. She was trying to make something on Namatame's grief, flouncing around him. He wondered if her parents or that Hanamura knew she was a little prostitute, and what they'd think of her then.

She'd been all screams and drama as well. He knew that she loved all the attention he was giving her. He knew she loved people watching her wallow in her grief. She'd been the star of her own little soap opera for a little while, all tears and sadness over the fact her father was sick of her, how she faked every smile she made working at that shitty Junes.

The fun hadn't stopped there. Her drama continued, breaking the heart of that stupid Hanamura. Ha, he'd somehow never learned what bitches women were, despite being so close to that dyke Satonaka and the Amagi bitch. Idiot.

He was laughing again, his throat felt like it had been clawed to death. He hadn't had this much fun since he'd gotten transferred to this shithole. Trust these idiot teenagers, trying to take away the one little game he got that was actually any good. They were taking the only good show on TV off the air! He knew his show drew a lot of viewers. He grinned. He was director and producer of the most-watched show in Inaba – everybody loved a little gorefest. Everybody wanted to see each other get torn to shreds, emotionally and physically.

Those stupid kids, so deep in denial they couldn't see they were rushing their own game to an end. What would they do once it was finished? It wasn't like they had much in common. All they had was their little investigation. If that finished, they'd all break apart. That was the only thing holding them together and it was hilarious. They'd push each other away by rushing to the end, and they didn't even realise their precious little friendships would be destroyed at the end of it.

He hated how naïve they were. He hated all the sickly-sweet speeches and smiles. They were reaching for the truth, but went and ignored the most basic one; they were all going to be alone in the end. Alone, just like him. Just like every other goddamn adult out there.

"_Okay!" _

That Souji kid. Dojima's nephew or something. He was their loser-leader, a weird little Mr Perfect who just swooped down to their rat-hole town and swept everybody off their feet. All of his gang always stared at him so _adoringly. _It made him sick.

"_That's enough. We should go back, and get some rest."_

He shook his head. Arrogant little prick. He'd take him down first. It would be fun to watch their faces as their beloved leader fell. He could see their horrified faces now.

He smiled to himself and pointed his gun, pretending the Seta kid was staring down the barrel.

"Bang, bang," he said, grinning to himself, "Let's see if Mr Perfect is bulletproof."


End file.
